


so blame it on me (you cannot command your love)

by sevensevan



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beth PoV, Cheating, F/F, Family Issues, SO MUCH THERAPY, rachel and quinn aren't cheating on each other don't worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21899458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevensevan/pseuds/sevensevan
Summary: At two years old, Beth moves with her parents to New York City, where they meet Rachel Berry, who becomes a permanent fixture in all of their lives. At fifteen, Beth walks in on her mother and Rachel kissing, and her whole world starts to fall apart.Future AU: Rachel didn't grow up in Lima. Quinn and Puck kept Beth. Weirdly positive for a fic about an affair.
Relationships: Beth Corcoran & Quinn Fabray, Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 17
Kudos: 161





	so blame it on me (you cannot command your love)

**Author's Note:**

> this is more or less my holiday fic i guess? it was a fun little plot bunny that wouldn't leave my brain so here it is for you guys. i promise i'll work on my other faberry fic soon.

The moment Beth turns the corner, she know she probably isn’t supposed to be here.

She’s just looking for the bathroom. It’s been eight months since Rachel and Jesse moved out of their apartment and bought a house. Beth and her parents have been over for dinner a dozen times, and still, she gets lost in it. It’s almost a mansion, really. Beth has never understood how anyone could need so much _space_ —she’s more than happy in the cramped house she shares with her parents—but she supposes that when one has two famous actor incomes and no children, one can afford as much space as one wants.

(When they first moved to New York thirteen years ago, when Beth was two and a half and her mom first befriended Rachel, who was already engaged to Jesse at eighteen, Beth had asked _constantly_ why Jesse and Rachel didn’t have kids. At the time, the answer was obvious: they were in school, trying to get their lives together. Beth had been an accident; no one her mom’s age _wanted_ to have kids—although Beth has always known that, regardless of the circumstances of her creation, she’s _wanted_. Now, though, Beth doesn’t really get why Rachel and Jesse haven’t started a family. But then, she’s never understood the odd _distance_ between those two, the way they never touch in public, never look _in love_ unless they’re singing.)

Beth steps around the corner by the staircase to the second floor of Rachel and Jesse’s house and immediately freezes in place. A dozen feet down the darkened hallway, her mother and Rachel are standing, wrapped around each other. For a moment, Beth can almost convince herself that they’re just hugging. They touch and hug a lot; they’ve always been affectionate. This isn’t abnormal.

But then Beth watches her mother pull away from the kiss, exhaling slowly, and she knows that she’s seeing something _secret_.

“Rachel,” Beth’s mom says quietly. Rachel hums, leaning forward and resting her forehead on Quinn’s collarbone.

(Beth can’t think of her as _mom_ right now. Not watching _this_.)

“I know,” Rachel says. “I know, we have to stop, but I just—I can’t stay away from you, Quinn. You know we can’t stop.” Quinn closes her eyes, resting her chin on the top of Rachel’s head.

“We’ll tell them someday,” she says. “When Beth is older. When she’s ready to hear it. We’ll tell them, and—and go out in public holding hands, and I’ll kiss you backstage and we—we can move into the house in Jersey and get married and—“ She’s getting louder, and Rachel shushes her gently. She lifts her head from Quinn’s collarbone, looking up at her, and it physically _hurts_ Beth, the amount of _love_ in Rachel’s eyes. She’s never seen Rachel look at Jesse that way.

She’s never seen her mom look at her dad the way Quinn is currently looking at Rachel, either, and that thought brings a bitter taste to Beth’s mouth.

“I know we will,” Rachel says, looking up at Quinn. “I know we will, and I promised myself I could _wait_ , Quinn, but—do you know what you _do_ to me?” She takes one of Quinn’s hands and pulls it up, pressing it against her chest. Over her heart. Beth can see Quinn’s eyes widen from here.

“So fast,” Quinn murmurs, and Rachel smiles. She laces her fingers through Quinn’s, still pressed to her heart.

“I can’t help it,” she says. “Every time I look at you.” She lifts Quinn’s hand from her chest and kisses her palm. “I’m more in love with you than I’ve ever been with anyone.” Quinn slips her hand around the back of Rachel’s neck and pulls her into another kiss.

Beth turns and heads back downstairs, completely hollowed out.

* * *

Beth looks up at the knock on her doorframe, her mouth automatically tightening into a frown when she sees her mother hovering in the doorway. She looks as beautiful as she always does—Beth’s pretty sure her mom hasn’t aged the entire time Beth has been alive—wearing the peacoat that she’s had since college to fight the New York December. But Beth hasn’t been able to look at her mother without hurting since that night at Rachel and Jesse’s.

“Hey,” her mom says, smiling at her. Beth just makes a vague, wordless noise, looking back down at her phone. “I’ll be back later tonight. I’m going over to Rachel’s for a bit.” Beth has no explanation for the words she says next. Maybe it’s just the biological prerogative of being a teenager to say something snarky and unwise at all possible times, or maybe it’s genetic—Beth’s heard horror stories from her dad about what her mom was like at her age—but either, way, she can’t take it back.

“Why?” Beth snaps, looking up at her mom. “So you can make out with her?” Beth’s mom freezes like a statue, her hesitant smile like wax on her face.

“…what?” she breathes after a moment. Beth sighs internally, because the cat’s out of the bag now, so she might as well commit to it.

“I saw you two,” she says, “at Thanksgiving, in the hallway. I was looking for the bathroom, and I came around the corner, and there you were, kissing someone who _definitely is not Dad_.” Beth doesn’t even try to make it sound less like the accusation that it is. Beth’s mom leans against the doorframe, her body folding in on itself like a leaky helium balloon.

“That’s why you’ve been mad at me the last couple weeks,” she says quietly. “That’s…Beth—“

“No,” Beth interrupts, suddenly angry. “No, don’t you—don’t you fucking _dare_ try to make this okay! Don’t tell me I’m—I’m too young to understand, or some other _bullshit_ about—why would you _do_ this to me? Or to Dad? I don’t care if you’re gay or whatever, I just—why would you make _us_ live a lie _with_ you?”

“Because I didn’t know I _was_!” Her mom is crying, Beth realizes suddenly. She can count how many times she’s seen her mom cry on one hand, and three of those were at her parents’ wedding. “I didn’t _know_ , Beth. You have to understand, my parents weren’t…I didn’t grow up like you have. You’ve never met your grandfather for a _reason_.” Beth knows that, sort of; she knows her mom lived with her Uncle Finn when she was pregnant with Beth because her parents didn’t want her at home, but no one’s ever really told her the details. “I had no _idea_ I was gay until after I met Rachel, and then I didn’t think she would ever love me back and I just—I thought I could _do it_ , baby. I was happier than I had ever been, and I had you and my job and Rachel and I thought—I thought I could just marry Noah and make it work and it wouldn’t _matter_ that Rachel made—made me feel things that he doesn’t. I thought it wouldn’t matter because I _do_ love him, and I love you. We’re a family, and I thought that would be _enough_.”

“But it isn’t,” Beth says dully. “It isn’t enough for you. _We’re_ not enough.”

“Beth, no,” her mom says, shaking her head, “I’m not saying that. You’re _always_ going to be enough for me, it was just—”

“Don’t,” Beth says, holding up a hand. “Just—just _leave_ , okay? Go see your girlfriend, cheat on Dad, do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care. Just stay _away_ from me.” Beth’s mom stares at her for a long moment, a thoroughly heartbroken look on her face. Beth refuses to make eye contact, and eventually, her mom nods, wipes at her tears, and leaves the room.

Beth doesn’t know how long she sits there, staring blankly at her phone, before another silhouette appears in the doorway. This one doesn’t make her want to punch something, though: it’s her dad, smiling gently at her.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says. “Can I come in?” Beth nods, and he steps into the room, sitting down beside her on the bed. “I heard shouting earlier,” he says. “Everything okay with you and Mom?”

“Did you hear what we were saying?” Beth asks. Her dad shakes his head.

“Just heard my two favorite people fighting,” he says, “and you know I hate that. What’s going on?” He gives her one of his cheesy grins, and Beth’s heart _breaks_ for him. She’s always been closer to him than her mom—he was the one that raised her, really; working odd jobs to fit around her mom’s schedule when she was still in school, reading to her, teaching her to sing and play guitar, and then staying with her all the time once her mom got her fancy teaching job when Beth was seven. He’s pretty much Beth’s favorite person of all time—maybe second behind her Aunt Brittany—and suddenly, she knows that she can’t let him live like this anymore.

“Mom’s gay,” Beth says, unable to look up at her dad and witness his reaction. “She’s gay, and she’s cheating on you. With Rachel.” Her dad exhales slowly beside her, and Beth closes her eyes, pulling her knees up to her chest to try to stop the _aching_ in her chest. She feels a familiar weight settle around her shoulders as her dad wraps an arm around her.

“I know she is, Beth,” her dad says quietly.

“You— _what_?” Beth says, lifting her head to look at him. “What?”

“I know,” he repeats. “I’ve known since last December. Rachel and Jesse’s New Years’ party.” Beth stares at him, shaking her head slightly, utterly nonplussed. He smiles a bit at her reaction, though it’s pained. “They both conveniently disappeared just before midnight, and I went to find Quinn, and…there they were.” He makes a vague gesture. “Kissing.”

“And you didn’t _say_ anything?” Beth says. “You just let that _happen_?” Her dad shrugs.

“I mean, it was kinda hot,” he says, and it’s such a _her dad_ thing to say that Beth half-laughs before she catches herself.

“ _Gross_ , Dad,” she says, shoving him, and he laughs. “I’m serious. How could you just let her _do_ that to us?” Her dad looks at her for a moment.

“I wasn’t going to, at first,” he says. “I was _mad_. You remember when I went back to Lima to hang out with Uncle Finn back in February?” Beth nods. It had been a weird few weeks; the trip to Ohio seemed to come out of nowhere, and her dad had been quieter for a few days when he got back. “I was deciding what to do,” he explains. “I knew if I confronted her it would tear us apart with how mad I was back then, and if I didn’t say anything, it would tear _me_ apart. So I went home and I talked to Kurt. You remember Kurt?” Beth nods again. “And he helped me…come to terms, I guess. Because, like, yeah, your mom’s cheating on me, and that sucks and it makes me feel like shit sometimes, but it’s not my _fault_ , right? I couldn’t give her what she wants even if I wanted to.”

“It’s _her_ fault,” Beth says, letting some of the anger boiling in her chest come out in her voice. Her dad shrugs.

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “It’s her choice to cheat on me with Rachel, sure. But the gay thing is just how she is, and, like, I know how it is, being in love. I can’t really blame her for wanting to be happy.”

“I don’t get it,” Beth says, shaking her head. “You love her. You’re _in love_ with her.” Her dad makes no protest; it’s true. “So how can you _possibly_ be _okay_ with this? She’s your _wife_.”

“I knew when she married me that she wasn’t doing it for me,” her dad says, looking away. “She was doing it for you.” Beth feels sick.

“She tell you that?” she asks.

“Quinn?” Her dad snorts. “Of course not. She had herself pretty convinced back then that she loved me more than anything, ‘cept you.”

“But you didn’t believe that.” Beth’s dad nods. “Then why would you marry her?”

“Because I love her,” he says. “And because I wanted to be a family, and back then, I thought we had to be married to be that.”

“And now?” Beth asks, her heart in her throat.

“Now I’m not twenty-two and stupid,” her dad says. “So, no, if it was happening today, I probably wouldn’t marry a gay chick. I’d lock her and Rachel in a room til they figured their shit out.”

“No, I mean…” Beth swallows hard. “Like, what happens to our family, now?” Her dad’s arm tightens around her shoulders.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I think Quinn was just waiting until you were old enough to hear about all this to leave me, but now that it’s all out there…”

“You’re going to get divorced,” Beth finishes for him.

“Yeah,” he says, staring down at the floor. “Probably.” He looks up at her, trying for a smile. “But, listen, Beth, no matter what happens, I’m not going anywhere, okay? And neither is Quinn. We’re both still your parents, that’s not going to change. Even if you kind of hate your mom right now.”

“When you leave, I want to go with you,” Beth says. “I want to live with you, not _her_.”

“Beth—“

“No.” Beth shakes her head firmly. “She did this to us, she’s going to deal with the consequences.” Her dad stares at her for long enough that Beth asks, “What?”

“Nothing,” he says. She raises an eyebrow, and that odd look on his face grows more apparent. “Nothing you want to hear about,” he amends, but she doesn’t lower the eyebrow, and he sighs heavily. “You just—you really, really remind me of Quinn at your age, sometimes,” he says. “Less bitchy and evil, but just as scary.”

“You’re right,” Beth says. “I didn’t want to hear that.” Her dad smiles slightly.

“Sorry,” he murmurs. “You asked.” He pulls her into a hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It’s gonna be okay, kiddo. You know that, right?”

Beth leans into his chest and tries to believe him.

* * *

Beth really doesn’t know why she agreed to this.

She’s at that house in New Jersey that Rachel had mentioned at Thanksgiving—a house that Rachel had apparently bought years ago, when Rachel and Beth’s mother had started— _doing_ this. _Years_ ago, because this has been going on since Beth was twelve, apparently. It’s not a few kisses at parties and empty promises; it’s a _relationship_ , a real one. The house in Jersey is a real place, a real future.

It’s all real. One of her parents, she doesn’t know who, has taken down all their wedding photos. Her dad has started packing bags and sleeping in the guest room. And here Beth is, having dinner with her mother and Rachel, which isn’t abnormal, except for the fact that Rachel is there not as a family friend, but as her mom’s _girlfriend_.

“So, Rachel, what about Jesse?” Beth asks, her voice sharp. She pushes her salad around her plate disinterestedly. It has the special vegan dressing that Rachel makes on it, a recipe that Beth usually goes crazy for, but it tastes like ash in her mouth right now. “How does he feel about you cheating on him? Or does he even know?”

“Beth,” her mom says in a warning tone, and internally, Beth _hopes_ her mother tries to scold her. She’d like to let out some of the tension in her chest. She wants to hurt Quinn. She wants to _shatter_ what’s left of their relationship. She wants to make her mom cry again; she’s just waiting for the opportunity.

“It’s okay, Quinn,” Rachel says quietly, setting a hand on her arm. She looks at Beth with soft, understanding eyes, and it makes Beth even _angrier_. She’s always loved Rachel, since she first befriended Beth’s mom when Beth was little, but right now, she hates her more than anything else in this world for looking at Beth like she _understands_. “Jesse knows. I told him after Quinn told me you had found out, but…honestly, Beth, he and I have been talking about separating for months now.” Beth’s eyes shoot up at that.

“What?” she says, forgetting to be angry for a moment. “But that’s—I know you guys were never like, crazy in love, but…”

“We weren’t,” Rachel says softly. “Jesse and I met on a stage, and I don’t think we ever completely stopped performing.”

“What are you saying?” Beth asks, shaking her head. “That you guys are—are what, a showmance?”

“No,” Rachel says firmly. “No, we loved each other, that wasn’t an act. But we aren’t wholly _ourselves_ with each other, and we never have been. We’re both too ambitious to prioritize our relationship, or each other. Besides, we were never each other’s _worlds_. Splitting up isn’t going to hurt either of us permanently.”

“Are you both fucking _sociopaths_?” Beth asks, stare flicking back and forth between Rachel and her mother.

“ _Beth_ ,” Quinn starts, but Beth cuts her off.

“Like, what is _wrong_ with you?” she says, looking at Rachel. “You’re talking about an eight year marriage like it’s—like it’s a fucking show. No, actually, I’ve seen you _way_ more upset about parts you didn’t get than you are right now.” Rachel looks down at her plate, but doesn’t deny it. Beth turns to her mother. “And you,” she says. “You’re just going to break up our family because you couldn’t fucking think about it before you got _married_? And couldn’t stick with it when you did? Do you even _care_ about what this is doing to me, or Dad, or is it just—all Quinn, all the time, no thinking about anyone else?” Beth shakes her head. “You should know, when Dad leaves you? I’m going with him. You’re the most selfish person I know, and I don’t want to live with you. I don’t want to _see_ you. I don’t want to be related to you.” Quinn makes a choked noise, bolting to her feet. She spins and walks as fast as she can down the hall towards the bathroom, tears already streaming down her face.

The sight doesn’t do anything to fix the aching in Beth’s chest.

Rachel says nothing in response to Beth’s outburst. She watches Quinn leave with a sad, concerned look, and then gets up, collecting her and Quinn’s plates and taking them into the kitchen. Beth, unable to fight the manners that have been instilled in her, picks up the rest of the dishes and follows Rachel. Rachel murmurs a thank you as Beth passes her the plates and begins to wash them. Beth hovers uncomfortably behind her, uncertain of where to go. If she leaves the kitchen, she might see her mother, and right now, she’d rather deal with Rachel. Rachel feels like less of a betrayal, somehow.

“You’re wrong about Quinn, you know,” Rachel says after awhile. “About her not caring. She loves you more than anything else in the world, Beth. More than she loves Noah. More than she loves me. That’s why we kept this a secret for so long.”

“You’re wrong,” Beth says. “If she loved me, she would’ve _told_ me.” Rachel sighs.

“You remember how things were a few years ago,” she says quietly. “Quinn didn’t want to add to everything else that was going on. This wouldn’t have made that year any easier.” Beth doesn’t respond to that, because it’s true. Seventh grade had been the hardest year of her life—the year she stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped looking both ways when she crossed the street.

Her mother had been the one to drag her out of it. Her mother had taken her to therapy, called her in sick when she couldn’t find the energy to get out of bed, tutored her on all the school she missed, found her a doctor who would give her medication that would work for her, refused to leave when Beth lashed out at everyone around her and drove all her friends away. It had been her mother who had _understood_ what was happening to her. It had been her mother who had sat her down and explained that mental illness ran in their family, explained that life would always be harder for them than it was for other people, but that it would always, _always_ , be worth it in the end.

Suddenly, Beth wonders if her mother had been talking about Rachel.

“I just don’t _get_ it,” Beth says, her voice shaking slightly. “I don’t get why she would do this. I just—I was _happy_ with her and Dad. Just the three of us. Why wasn’t _she_?”

“She’s gay, Beth,” Rachel says.

“So am I,” Beth snaps. “Didn’t turn me into a cheating bitch.” Rachel turns to look at her, eyes wide.

“At some point,” she says, “we are going to have a conversation about that, and I am going to tell you how much I love you and how proud I am of you for knowing that about yourself and telling me, but I don’t think you would appreciate it right now.” Beth shakes her head, looking down at her feet. Rachel tells her she loves her a lot, but now it _hurts_.

“Have I ever told you about my mother?” Rachel says, setting the last of the dishes aside and leaning back against the counter, looking at Beth. Beth shakes her head. She’s met Rachel’s dads twice, but she’s never even heard about Rachel’s mom. “Her name is Shelby,” Rachel says. “We…have a very complicated relationship for two people who don’t really have a relationship at all.” Beth waits, sensing one of Rachel’s _stories_ coming. Rachel has a tendency to retell everything that’s ever happened to her like it’s an episode of a soap opera—which isn’t totally unwarranted, considering that her life in high school does sort of sound like a soap opera, from what Beth’s heard. She’ll write a very entertaining memoir someday.

“My fathers hired her to be their surrogate,” Rachel explains. “They paid her handsomely, from what I understand. She was quite young, and had a dream of being on Broadway. She agreed to it so she could get the money to go to New York.”

“You get your voice from her?” Beth asks, already recognizing Rachel in the description of this woman she’s never met.

“My voice,” Rachel says, nodding, “along with everything else, it seems. It was a strange experience, seeing exactly what I would look like at forty when I was sixteen.” 

“Sixteen?” Beth says, raising an eyebrow.

“New York didn’t work out for her the way it did for me,” Rachel says. “She came back to Connecticut when I was in high school, looking for me. She wanted to meet me. She got a job at my high school and cornered me after class one day to play me a song and tell me the truth.”

“Creepy,” Beth says, unable to stop herself, and Rachel laughs.

“A little bit,” she agrees. “Shelby hung around for awhile. We got coffee once or twice before she decided she actually wanted nothing to do with me.” Rachel smiles ruefully. “I believe the exact words she used were that she thought we should _admire one another from a distance_ , after she finished telling me that I didn’t need a mother.”

“Jesus.” Beth shakes her head, a jolt of unwilling empathy passing through her. “What a bitch.” Rachel shrugs.

“I’ve made my peace with it,” she says. “My point, Beth, is that no matter how angry you are with Quinn at the moment, she will _always_ want you. She will always love you. Nothing will ever come in the way of that, not even me. Don’t mistake having a mother who isn’t perfect for having one that doesn’t want you. I know how that feels, and Quinn would never be capable of inflicting that on you.”

“I’m allowed to be mad,” Beth says, crossing her arms, though it’s more of a defensive gesture than an angry one. Rachel is so obnoxiously _good_ at this, at peeling back all of Beth’s layers of anger and aggression and figuring out what’s underneath it all. “It isn’t about whether or not she wants me, it’s about what she did to my family. I’m allowed to want her to be sorry for that.”

“You are,” Rachel agrees. “But she’s never going to be sorry, Beth. I can never regret what’s happened between her and I, and neither can she. We’re in love, and that isn’t an excuse, but someday you’re going to understand why it’s made both of us act like this.”

“No,” Beth says, shaking her head. “Maybe I’ll forgive her someday, but I’m never going to understand. This—what you two did, it’s _wrong_. I’m a better person than that. I’m never going to _understand_ it.”

“You are.” Beth turns at the voice, and there’s her mother, standing at the end of the hallway by the kitchen. Quinn smiles at her, her eyes red and puffy. “A better person, I mean. You could forgive me someday?” Beth looks away.

“I don’t know, Mom,” she says. “I don’t know. I don’t—I need _space_ , and time, and—I’m gonna go with Dad, when he moves out. I can’t…” She shakes her head, but her mom nods like she understands.

“I know you are,” she says. “I know. It’s okay, baby. I’m still going to be here if you ever want to come home, or just—talk, or anything.” She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. “I’m _always_ going to be here when you need me, Beth. Do you understand?” Beth nods. She still can’t look straight at her mother.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna get an Uber to Eric’s and spend the night over there,” she says, pulling out her phone.

“Okay,” her mom says. “Be safe, it’s a long ride to Eric’s from here.” Beth nods. “I love you,” her mom says. Beth doesn’t respond, and after a moment, her mom steps aside, letting her pass by and walk out of the kitchen.

* * *

“I don’t know, I kinda understand,” Eric says, flicking his wrist and watching the pebble fly out across the lake they’re camping near, bouncing a dozen times before it sinks. Beth turns to stare at her best friend.

“What are you _talking_ about?” Beth says. “You _understand_ my mom cheating on my dad for _three fucking years_?”

“Hey,” Eric says, raising his hands defensively. “I’m not saying it’s _okay_ , I’m just saying…I kinda get it.” Beth glares at him for a moment, then turns and skips her own rock. It shoots out across the lake, far exceeding where Eric’s had sunk, and she takes a bit of satisfaction in that. Their friendship _is_ sort of founded on competition.

“S’like, they love each other, right?” Eric says after a minute. “And yeah, it’s fucked up what they did to your dad, but, like, should they have just been miserable forever?”

“My mom wasn’t _miserable_ ,” Beth says. “She told me she was happy with me and Dad.” Eric shrugs.

“Yeah, but if she’s happier this way, it makes sense,” he says. “Like, if she knew she was gonna be happier with Rachel, why hold herself back?”

“Because she made a _promise_ ,” Beth says. “She married my dad. That _means_ something. That means you _stay_ with someone, even when you want someone else.”

“What do you want her to have done?” Eric crouches down, digging through the rocky beach for another suitable skipping stone.

“I—I want her to have done it _right_ ,” Beth says. “They both should’ve gotten divorced before they did this.”

“But she would have been emotionally cheating on your dad the whole time anyway,” Eric points out, straightening up and passing Beth a rock as he sets up for his own throw. “Does the physical line mean that much?” Beth opens her mouth to protest, but Eric keeps talking. “Yeah, they probably both should’ve gotten divorced a long time ago, but you said this started when we were in seventh grade, right?” Beth nods, and Eric gives her a half-smile. “Your parents _definitely_ couldn’t have gotten divorced then.”

“Because of me,” Beth says.

“That’s not a bad thing,” Eric says. Beth tosses her rock, but this one just sinks straight into the lake. “Just means she loved you enough to stay when she knew she wanted something else. Put your needs above her wants. That’s the parent thing to do, right?”

“It is when you say it like that,” Beth says, crossing her arms. “But it’s not that simple.”

“Nope.” Eric dusts his hands off on his jeans and shoves them into his jacket pockets. “It’s all pretty fucked up. Just, like, maybe don’t hate your mom forever, I guess? She makes really good French toast, and if you never go back to her house I’ll never get to eat it again.” Beth can’t help but laugh, shaking her head—although the mention of her mom’s house reminds her that, sooner or later, her mother will be moving in with Rachel, out in that house in New Jersey—the one they’ve been planning a life in, a life that Beth isn’t sure she fits into.

The house isn’t that far away, really, but it feels like a whole different universe from the apartment Beth has been sharing with her dad.

“Come on,” Eric says, turning away from the lake. “We gotta be the first ones in the campground to start a fire, so those girls from earlier will come hang out with us.” Beth rolls her eyes, following him back up towards the tree line.

“I still don’t know why we’re _camping_ ,” she complains. “Rachel’s I-feel-bad vacation money could’ve taken us anywhere, and you chose _camping_.” Eric just shrugs his narrow shoulders, not even glancing back at her. He’s tall, long-limbed, built like a rock climber, but Beth, although not particularly tall, is lanky, so she catches up with him quickly despite his head start up the beach. They walk side by side in silence, the lake lapping quietly against the shore behind them, and finally, a little bit of that tension in Beth’s chest starts to melt.

* * *

“I just—I feel stupid,” Beth says. “I feel like I’m the only one who _gets_ that this is _bad_. My dad’s okay with it, Jesse’s okay with it, Mom and Rachel are gross and in love, _Eric_ even gets it. Am I crazy or something? Did I miss the memo that said _cheating is okay, actually_?” Her therapist regards her calmly, despite Beth’s growing anger.

“You’re not crazy,” he says. “You’re well within your rights to be angry with your mother and Rachel. You’re allowed to feel betrayed and hurt.”

“Then why am I the only one who feels this way?” Beth leans back in the chair, rubbing at her eyes. She’s so tired of talking about all this. It’s been a month and a half since Thanksgiving, since Beth saw a kiss she wasn’t supposed to see and her world collapsed around her, a week since she got back from camping with Eric and wasting the time they could’ve spent trying to impress those girls on talking about this same shit, over and over. She just wants it to be _done_.

“Because you’re the one it affects most deeply,” Thomas—he had refused to be called _doctor_ anything when Beth had first started seeing him in seventh grade—says. “I’m sure your father was just as upset when he first found out, but he’s had over a year to cope with it. From what I understand, Jesse never valued his relationship with Rachel as much as he values his career, and a public yet amicable divorce will be good for publicity. Eric’s only stake in this is through you.” Thomas shrugs. “You’re at the center of it, Beth. It’s going to come down hardest on you.” Beth sighs heavily and turns to her mother, where she’s sitting silently in a different chair in the office, observing Beth and Thomas with an unreadable expression on her face.

“What do you think?” Beth asks her. “Anything helpful to add here?” She was suspicious of Thomas’s suggestion that they invite her mother into a session with them when he first suggested it, and so far, Quinn has only proven Beth’s suspicions right. She’s sat silently for almost the entire twenty minutes they’ve been in the office.

“I don’t know,” Beth’s mother says, looking down at her clasped fingers. “It’s true that Beth is the most affected by all of this, since Noah already knew.”

“Most affected other than you and Rachel,” Thomas points out. “I would think you two would be _most_ affected.” A slight smile flickers over her face.

“Well, yeah,” she murmurs. “I guess so.” Thomas shifts in his chair, facing Quinn more fully.

“Tell me more about your relationship with Rachel,” he says.

“Well, I realized I was gay the first time I heard her sing,” Quinn says, grinning. Beth crosses her arms uncomfortably. “We were at this open mic, maybe two or three weeks after we met? I knew she was a singer, obviously, since she was at NYADA back then, but I hadn’t heard her yet. She got up on stage and sang this Bright Eyes song—it was in a coffee shop, so it wasn’t really, like, the right place for belting or musical theater numbers or anything—and I just…I don’t even know. I was watching and she looked at me and I just…” She snaps her fingers. “But that was just…attraction, I guess. I wrote it off because I was with Noah and we had Beth and I figured it would go away on its own, and if it didn’t, I could make it.”

“When did it become more than an attraction?” Thomas asks. Quinn leans back in her chair, considering it for a moment. It’s like she’s forgotten Beth’s here, entirely absorbed in reminiscing about her _affair_ with Rachel.

“I don’t know if I can pinpoint one moment,” she says. “Um, maybe the first time we sang together. I was hanging out with her on campus—this was her sophomore year of college, I think—and we were in a practice room. She found out I can play piano and she insisted I play for her. She started singing—not performing, just…singing to me. So I started singing with her, and…I have this _image_ in my head, I guess, of her leaning up against the piano, looking right at me and singing with me. And I looked at her and I thought, this is what I want to do every day, for the rest of my life.” Thomas smiles slightly at her. Beth just stares out the window, feeling sick to her stomach.

“And when did the affair actually start?” he asks.

“Well, it was around three years ago—“

“Stop,” Beth interrupts her mother. She and Thomas both turn to look at Beth. “Just—stop it. I don’t want to hear about this.”

“Of course,” Beth’s mother says. “I’m sorry, I—“

“Why?” Thomas says. “I think hearing about it will help you understand it better.”

“I don’t _want_ to understand it,” Beth says. “God, you’re just like everyone else. What she and Rachel are doing is _wrong_. Why am I the only one who sees that?” Thomas looks at her for a long moment.

“Beth, do you want to have a relationship with your mother?” he asks. Beth blinks at him.

“What?”

“Look, it’s clear to everyone how angry you are with Quinn,” Thomas says. “And that’s understandable. You have the right to feel betrayed and angry and confused. But, when you’re angry, you have a tendency to make rash choices without considering the consequences.”

(Beth thinks about the sound of smoke alarms in her eighth grade science classroom, about pushing a lit Bunsen burner under a bottle of chemicals with an unmistakable heat warning on it, about the burn scar under her chin that she usually hides with makeup, and realizes that yeah, she can’t really argue with that.)

“What’s really at stake here is your relationship with your mother,” Thomas is saying when Beth tunes back in. “And no one wants you to make rash decisions when it comes to that. So, removed from your current situation, five, ten, fifteen years down the line, are you going to want a relationship with Quinn?”

Beth thinks about that for a moment. She pictures a future without her mother: a high school graduation with just her father in attendance, college friends and parties and classes without being able to call her mom when all the stress becomes too much. Losing the only person on the planet who _understands_ what goes on in Beth’s head sometimes. Trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life without her mother’s hand on her shoulder, without her mother’s voice telling her it’ll all work out. Never getting the chance to tell her mom that she’s gay.

She _hates_ that picture.

“I don’t know,” Beth says, looking down at her hands, twisted into a knot in her lap. She’s picking at her nails anxiously, she realizes, and she moves them under her thighs to stop herself. “I don’t—I do…want a relationship, but I don’t want the rest of it. I don’t want her and Dad to get divorced, and I don’t want her to move to New Jersey, and I don’t want her to be a _cheater_.” She looks up at Thomas, because looking at her mother hurts too much right now. “She was the best person I knew,” Beth says. “And now she’s _not_ , and I just—I want my old mom back.” To her left, Beth hears her mom choke on a sob.

“She’s the same person she’s been for the past three years, Beth,” Thomas says gently. Beth shakes her head.

“That makes it worse,” she says, “because that means she’s been pretending to be someone else this whole time, and the mom I had was never _real_.” Her mom leans forward, resting her face in her hands.

(Beth’s lost count of how many times she’s made her mom cry. It still hasn’t started making her feel any better.)

“Was Eric pretending to be someone else before he told you he was bisexual?” Thomas asks, raising his eyebrows at Beth. He knows she’s gay, and he knows she hasn’t told her mom, and Beth knows _exactly_ what he’s getting here—that if her mother has been lying, then Beth has, too.

“It’s not the same,” Beth says. “Eric just wasn’t ready to tell me. He wasn’t making me live a lie.”

“She’s right,” Quinn says. Her hands have moved from her face to the back of her head, and she’s staring at the ground between her feet, but her voice is steady. “This isn’t about me being gay.” Beth looks down at her lap, hands still trapped beneath her legs.

“It’s…a little bit about you being gay,” she admits. She can feel her mother’s shocked gaze on her, but she doesn’t look up. “Dad _loves_ you. The moment you realized you couldn’t love him back, you should’ve done something about it.” Quinn exhales slowly.

“Noah’s always known I don’t love him the way he loves me,” she says. “Since high school. I’m a good actor, but…not that good.”

“And you figured you’d marry him anyway?” Beth snaps. “Just—not giving a _fuck_ what it would do to him?”

“Of course I cared—“

“Clearly not, since you took the first chance you got to hop into bed with someone else.” Beth stands, pacing over to the window. She can still feel her mother’s eyes on her back. Thomas is watching them interact, taking notes, not intervening, and Beth just _knows_ all of this stuff is going to come back to haunt her next time she comes in alone.

“The _first chance_?” Quinn repeats. She laughs bitterly. “I’ve been in love with Rachel for _ten years_ , and for seven of them, I didn’t do a damn _thing_ about it.”

That hits something in Beth. She’d _known_ that, on some level, from her mother’s explanation of the timeline of her relationship with Rachel earlier, but she hadn’t really connected the dots. To love someone for _that long_ , to be unable to give up on it or act on it, to be caught in limbo, feeling so much and doing so little…

A little bit more of the tension in Beth’s chest slips away.

“What changed?” Beth asks, turning to face her mother. Quinn hesitates, eyes flicking over to Thomas for a moment.

“You’re sure you want to hear about it?” she asks. Beth nods. “Well, it was towards the end of your seventh grade year. Rachel had been…such a good _friend_ to me that year. A lot of the stuff you were going through reminded me of my own problems—which isn’t your fault at all, it’s just how it is—and I didn’t want to burden you or Noah with them, so I talked to her about it. She was empathetic, and understanding, and never once judged me. She basically did all the things that made me fall in love with her in the first place. That year was the hardest my life had been since before you were born, and she just…stayed. Through all of it, she was there for me. On top of that, I was just so _happy_ , you know? You were getting better. Everything was better.” Quinn shifts in her chair, pausing for a moment as if to figure out how to say her next words. Beth finds herself shockingly calm, listening to the details of her mother’s affair. The tension in her chest isn’t flaring up. The urge to make her mother cry has faded into the background—though it hasn’t disappeared entirely.

“I was over at Rachel’s one afternoon for lunch,” Quinn says. “It was May. We were sitting out on the deck after we ate, and she kept… _looking_ at me, I guess, in a way that I had never seen from her before. I finally asked her what was going, and she took my hand and said—she said, ‘don’t hate me forever for this’, and then she kissed me.”

“And that was it,” Beth says. “That was the end of my family.” Her mother looks away.

“Before all this happened,” Thomas says, making his presence known again, “you considered Rachel to _be_ a part of your family, Beth.”

“Yeah, well,” Beth mutters, returning to her chair, “I guess she will be now, since she’ll be my _stepmom_.” Thomas gives her a _look_ , and Beth deflates. “Yeah, I did,” she says, looking away. “She—I mean, I don’t _remember_ life without her involved somehow. I’ve had dinner with her at least twice a month my whole life. Mom made _her_ give me the sex talk because she was too much of a prude to.” Quinn makes a face, but doesn’t protest. “Rachel—she was the first person I came out to, you know?” _That_ gets a reaction from her mom, who jerks in her chair, eyes widening.

“What?” she says, and Beth realizes, too late, what she’s said. She turns to her mom, raising a hand and waving awkwardly.

“Um, hi,” she says. “I’m, like, really gay.” Her mom stares at her for a moment, and then her face splits into a grin.

“I love you,” she says, “so, so much. I know you don’t want to hear that right now, but—can I just give you a hug?” Beth thinks about it for a moment. Her hands are shaking in her lap, and even though the words came easily—it’s not like her mom could, or _would_ , judge—she still feels like she just peeled back her ribcage and showed the world her insides for them to walk all over.

“Yeah,” Beth says, standing. “Yeah, okay.” Her mom jumps to her feet, covering the distance between them in two graceful strides, and pulls Beth into such a tight embrace that for a moment, she can’t really breathe.

Standing there in her therapist’s office, pressed up against her mother and breathing in a familiar perfume, Beth feels a little bit more of the tension in her chest melt away. And then she’s crying, sobbing into her mom’s shoulder, clutching at her with all her strength. The floodgates are open, and Beth is _drowning_.

Her mom just holds her tight, whispers that she loves her, and waits for the moment to pass.

* * *

Beth brings Eric to Easter at her mom’s house.

It’s been easier, the past few months, since that day in Thomas’s office. Beth isn’t sure she’ll ever really _forgive_ her mom, or let go of the remnants of anger in her chest, but…she can sit at the dinner table and talk about school, and the girl in her math class who keeps giving her pieces of paper with poems on them, and how Beth and Eric are thinking of starting a band. She can spend a few nights a month in the guest room at the house in New Jersey—because that’s where her mom lives now, with Rachel—and eat her mom’s French toast without losing it completely. She can look her mother in the eye.

As far as Rachel goes, it’s a little easier than it is with her mom. Thomas had been right; Beth has always thought of Rachel as family. She had been raised to value _love_ over everything: family has never been about blood for Beth. So she talks to Rachel the same way she always has, and mostly, it’s like nothing has really changed. Rachel holds Quinn’s hand at the dinner table, and that’s new, but nothing else is. Not really. Rachel and Quinn look at each other the same way they always have, and Beth is starting to wonder how she never suspected anything.

Despite the general easing of tensions, when Eric jokingly calls Rachel and Quinn “moms” barely five minutes into pre-Easter brunch hors d’oeuvres, the tension in the room is _palpable_. To his credit, he immediately picks up on it, and excuses himself to the bathroom with a murmured apology. Rachel flees to the kitchen with the excuse of checking on a dish—which they all know is absurd; Rachel’s culinary skills begin and end with vegan cookies and salads—and Beth is left alone with her mother.

“I’m not going to start calling Rachel _mom_ ,” Beth says, “if that’s what you want.” Her mother makes a face.

“That is _not_ what I want,” she says firmly. “I think all of us would hate that, Rachel especially. There’s a reason she and Jesse never had kids.”

There’s _something_ in the way she says that, something that makes Beth only hesitate for a moment before saying, “She would be a really good mom, though. If that’s something you guys want.” Something flickers in Quinn’s eyes, and she smiles hesitantly.

“We’ve, um, we have been discussing that, actually,” she says. “In the abstract, mostly, since we’re not even married, or formally engaged, for that matter, but…we’ve had the thought.” She scrutinizes Beth. “You would be okay with that?”

“You and Rachel having kids?” She thinks about it for a moment. “I…yeah. I think I would be. A baby sibling could be cool.” Her mom smiles.

“You’re only saying that because you don’t know how much babies cry,” she says. Beth rolls her eyes. Her mom grows serious for a moment, and says, “Beth, even if Rachel and I have kids, you’re still going to be enough for me. You know that, right?” Beth nods. She _does_ know that, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.

“Is it safe in here?” Rachel says, poking her head in from the kitchen. Quinn turns and looks at her for a long moment. Beth recognizes her mom’s _scheming_ face, and it makes her a bit nervous. Good things can come of that face, but she doesn’t trust it by default.

“Rachel?” Quinn says.

“Yes, dear?” Rachel says, a half-smile playing on her face. She clearly recognizes the _scheme_ face as well.

“Do you want to marry me?” Rachel blinks at her.

“I’m sorry, what?” she says.

“Marry me,” Quinn repeats. “Do you want to?” Rachel stares at her for another moment, processing.

“Quinn Fabray,” she finally says. “If _that_ is your idea of a proper proposal, then absolutely not.” It’s half-teasing, half-serious, clearly not intended to upset Quinn, and it doesn’t. Quinn holds up a finger.

“Wait here,” she says, and takes off down the hall towards the stairs. Beth can hear her running feet jumping up the stairs and shooting down the upstairs hallway like a rocket. It’s that moment that Eric returns to the room, looking at Beth and raising his eyebrows.

“There a reason your mom just nearly ran me over in the hallway?” he asks. Beth shrugs helplessly, and the three of them look at each other in confusion, until they hear footsteps coming down the stairs, just as fast as they went up. Quinn comes rushing back into the room, skidding to a stop in front of Rachel, a small box clutched in her hand.

“Quinn,” Rachel says. “What is going on?” Quinn drops to one knee, holding the box out and popping it open.

“Rachel,” she says again. “Do you wanna marry me?” Rachel stares at her for a long moment before closing her eyes and smiling fondly.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, you _dork_ ,” she says. Quinn leaps to her feet, taking the hand that Rachel offers her and slipping the engagement ring onto it. Beth and Eric glance at each other, half-shocked, half-laughing.

“I love you,” Quinn says, “So much,” and pulls Rachel into a kiss. They keep it brief, mostly chaste, obviously sensitive to their audience.

To Beth, it feels like a punch in the stomach. It _hurts_ , seeing her mom with someone other than her dad. It hurts to see that ring on Rachel’s finger. It hurts to stand in this house and feel like she doesn’t _belong_. This isn’t her life, it’s her mother’s, and they don’t overlap the way they used to.

But then Quinn pulls away from the kiss, smiling more brightly than Beth has ever seen her smile before, and she thinks maybe, if it makes her mom this _happy_ , she can deal with the hurt.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i'm on tumblr @daisys-quake and on twitter @thoughtsintoink; feel free to hit me up. leave kudos and a comment; it makes my day and motivates me to keep writing :)


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